The Fifth Ring
by Skyskater
Summary: Ulquiorra's having a horrible winter. Grimmjow is off on a business trip, the weather is terrible, and someone is giving him pointless gifts. GrimmUlqui, follows the 12 Days of Christmas song.


**Happy holidays, everyone...here's another UlquiGrimm oneshot thing, I hope it's as good as last year's was. :) HOMG THIRD PERSON! :D**

* * *

Ulquiorra hated Christmas. He hated the holidays in general.

And this year was especially bad. Grimmjow was gone on a business trip. He would be gone over Christmas.

Oh, and, to make things even worse, it was snowing. Ulquiorra hated snow with a passion. Just like he hated his job at the restaurant with a passion.

It was December 14th. Ulquiorra frowned sullenly up at the gray sky, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as a snowflake fell on his forehead. He jammed the key into the lock, jiggling it a little. He was about to step inside when he felt his foot strike something that wasn't the doorframe. He looked down. A little box with a pink ribbon on it sat there, innocently.

Intrigued, he picked it up, and walked inside.

By a warm, crackling fire, Ulquiorra opened the box. Inside was a little plastic figurine of a pear.

He frowned, but set the box on the table next to him.

That was another reason why he hated Christmas: people gave him pointless gifts.

This year was going to suck like no other.

* * *

If it was possible, December 15th was even worse than December 14th.

There was a blizzard. And the roaring fire in the grate wasn't enough to convince Ulquiorra that all was good in the world.

The doorbell rang.

Ulquiorra scowled. He hated himself for being such a pushover, but he couldn't bring himself to leave whoever was out there out in the cold.

He opened the door, and about two inches of snow spilled over into the house.

There was no one there.

Ulquiorra was about to rip out his hair and scream bloody murder when he noticed the little box on the doorstep.

Inside was another little pear figurine, and two of these cheap plastic turtles kids won in arcade games.

He closed the door, wondering who was giving him the gifts.

Then he looked down, saw the already-melting snow on the floor, and his mood darkened once more.

* * *

December 16th brought a chilly, crisp day.

The chirping birds and the annoying clang of the doorbell woke Ulquiorra up at the ungodly hour of 6 in the morning.

He stomped downstairs angrily. He opened the door, letting it slam against the opposite wall.

Nobody was there. But there was a box.

It held three slices of French toast on a little plate, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear.

Well, he mused, he couldn't totally be mad at the unseen gift-giver. He was a French toast kind of guy...

* * *

Ulquiorra had had a horrible day at work on December 17th. His boss had yelled at him for not being clean-shaven because apparently, a customer had found a black hair in her food. Ulquiorra had tried to defend himself, had tried to point out that the hair was curly and short, whereas his hair was bone straight and longer than the other hair.

In fact, the hair almost looked like a....

Well, he wouldn't continue through with that thought. Point was, he had gotten a pay cut. And it wasn't even his hair.

He stomped angrily up the stairs to the front door, looking down instinctively. Without fail, there was the box; it was bigger this time.

Inside the comfort of his house, he opened it. Four paper cranes, three slices of Buche de Noel...or what looked like Buche de Noel on a little Saran-wrapped plate, two plastic turtles, and the one plastic pear.

At least he'd have comfort food...he was always a sucker for those high-calorie French desserts...

* * *

On December 18th, it rained. Ulquiorra normally liked the rain, except when it was freezing cold and seeped through his clothes, stinging his skin and chilling him to the very bone. And it didn't help that the porch had a nonexistent awning, which, inevitably, led to the lock being rained on, which led to the water inside the lock being frozen.

And so he was stuck outside in the rain, trying to melt the lock.

The rain started to cease, and for once that day, his mood was somewhat lightened. And then, all of a sudden, there was a huge clap of thunder and the rain began pouring down in icy sheets once again.

Ulquiorra couldn't help it. He started crying, slumping against the door and sobbing.

Through his tears - or was it rain? - he saw a box propped up against the door, its little red ribbon drooping sadly.

Still sniffling slightly, he opened it. Five rings made out of golden wire greeted him, followed by four paper cranes, three small chocolate eclairs, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear.

He stood up, turned back to the lock, and determinedly shoved the key in. Those beautiful eclairs couldn't go to waste. The key went in easily, to his surprise. He looked closer. There were drops of water on the lock, drops that hadn't been there before. And they were slightly warmer than the rain was. While he had been crying, someone had melted the lock for him.

He looked around. There was no one else on the street but him. There were no people in the cars on the street. There was no one.

He sighed, hiccuped, shrugged, and went inside.

* * *

December 19th greeted Ulquiorra with a cracked windshield. It had hailed, and some hugeass piece of ice had fallen straight onto his car.

He sighed.

Well, today was going to be crappy.

* * *

When he got home, there was the box again, without fail, sitting innocently on the porch.

Six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three chocolate truffles, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear greeted him.

He picked up a truffle and placed it in his mouth. It was dark chocolate with powdered cocoa dustings.

He missed Grimmjow.

* * *

December 20th Ulquiorra was more than happy to stay home.

It was a good day, peaceful, tranquil, happy, almost. It would have been perfect if Grimmjow had been there.

Three quick knocks on the door, and he raced to open it, raced to find out who it was that was leaving him these strange gifts.

Damn it. He'd been too late.

But there were footprints leading away from the porch. He followed them curiously, wondering vaguely if he knew anybody with shoes of that tread.

Grimmjow used to have shoes like that, he thought. Then he shook his head. No, Grimmjow wasn't home yet and wouldn't be home until after New Year's. That was silly.

The footprints stopped at the street. He sighed.

He returned to his house, picked up the box, and went inside.

Seven crystal swans, six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three little containers of almond flan, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear.

Ulquiorra frowned. He should really get that mysterious person something...

* * *

On Monday, December 21st, Ulquiorra woke up with a sore throat and a runny nose.

"I probably deserved it, walking outside in slippers," he said aloud, then stopped. It hurt his throat and the house felt too empty, his words echoed too much. He hated that feeling.

He went downstairs to fix some soup for himself, and after eating a very small bowl of it, fell asleep on the couch.

Hours passed, and when he woke up again, it was dark.

He looked toward the door, and lo and behold, there was that little box, standing INSIDE the house.

He frowned, wondering if he'd left the door unlocked, if he'd left a window unlocked, wondered if somehow he'd sleptwalked outside, picked up the box, and put it next to the door.

It couldn't have been a break-and-enter situation, Ulquiorra thought. They didn't take anything...

He picked up the box, which was getting bigger and bigger with every passing day, and inside he found: Eight small cartons of milk, seven crystal swans, six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three small Nutella crepes, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear.

He walked over to the fridge to place the milk inside, and his gaze happened to fall on the pot of soup. There was no more soup in the pot, and there was a second used bowl and spoon in the sink.

He smiled vaguely.

"I'm glad you liked the soup," he said aloud, then stopped again. He hated the echo of his words.

* * *

December 22nd, Ulquiorra was even sicker, having a slight fever along with everything else. He hated winter.

When he woke up from a long sleep, it was evening, and he began to panic. His boss would have his head if he showed up late for the evening shift...

Racing to put on some warm clothes, he happened to look at the phone. There was a message.

"Mr. Schiffer, we are indeed sorry to hear of your illness. Please feel free to start your vacation today."

He frowned, gazing at the answering machine quizzically. He'd never called to tell them he was sick.

Either his boss was freaking psychic, or someone had called for him..

And that's when he saw the box.

Nine fans with geishas on them, eight milk cartons, seven crystal swans, six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three little containers of creme brulee, two plastic turtles, and one plastic pear.

He was tempted to call the police to have them put a watch around his house.

But then again, he truly did love the food the person gave him....

* * *

December 23rd, Ulquiorra was praying on his knees in front of the porcelain god holding court in the bathroom.

When he woke from a comatose state, he saw the little box this time on the nightstand, along with a bowl of soup and some medicine.

Ten Ken dolls from Mattel, nine geisha fans, seven crystal swans, six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three packets of hot chocolate, two plastic turtles, one plastic pear, and a note saying, "The eight milk cartons are in the fridge. Don't stress yourself."

He frowned, but his eyes twinkled with a small smile.

* * *

December 24th's morning watched over a very, very tired Ulquiorra Schiffer. He hadn't been able to get any sleep last night, his body was so full of aches and cramps.

He must have dozed off for a few hours, because when he awoke, the sun was higher in the sky and there was that box sitting on the bed next to him.

The box was rather large now.

His sleep-riddled fingers fumbled with the ribbon.

Eleven little kazoos, ten Ken dolls, nine geisha fans, seven crystal swans, six little glass geese, five golden rings, four paper cranes, three miniature French baguettes, two plastic turtles, one plastic pear, and one note saying, "Milk in the fridge. Don't worry. Stop frowning."

He was about to frown, but then he looked at the note, and decided to smile instead.

* * *

December 25th broke over the horizon, crystal clear. No hail, no snow, no rain, no nothing. There wasn't a single cloud in that brillant azure sky.

Ulquiorra looked at it from behind his window, and was reminded of Grimmjow.

Christmas wasn't anything without Grimmjow.

He took a short nap in the afternoon on the couch, by a crackling fire.

When he awoke, he found a small note on the couch's arm: "Follow the gifts."

He looked around tiredly, and saw a small little toy drum on the coffee table. A little arrow was drawn on the top of the drum with marker.

He followed the arrow, and found another little toy drum with another arrow on it.

He found ten more drums, which led to eleven little kazoos, which led to ten Ken dolls, which led to nine geisha fans, to eight little milk cartons, to seven crystal swans, to six little glass geese, to four golden rings, to four paper cranes, to three slices of chocolate cake, to two plastic turtles, and finally, one plastic pear outside the closed bedroom door.

He frowned. Either he'd miscounted, or there had only been four golden rings.

He bent down and picked up the little plastic pear. In miniscule letters was written, "Fifth ring inside."

Ulquiorra opened the door.

He saw a shock of blue.

Grimmjow knelt on the floor, holding a black velvet box.

"Hey, Ulquiorra," he said, smiling. "Will you marry me?"

And suddenly, Christmas didn't seem so bad.


End file.
